


Malenk'ya Zmey

by MaxAddison9794



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxAddison9794/pseuds/MaxAddison9794
Summary: If he raises his gun in her direction, he'll never forgive himself...But if he raises it towards theirs, he'll never get the chance to pull the trigger...Karl doesn't know where he came from. He can't remember life before the Academy. All he knows are the facts, and a face. A woman, with red hair and green eyes. A ghost from a past long forgotten.So he does what he's been trained for all those years. Follows orders, takes out targets, kills without remorse, obeys without questioning.Then he's sent to kill her, the one person he's remembered through all the memory wipes. He knows he can't, he knows he shouldn't, but if he doesn't, Schmidt will not hesitate to kill him.He has to make an impossible choice, and he is running out of time.
Kudos: 2





	1. Mission

Harrison Schmitt sat looking through papers, checking, and rechecking the information. The folders passed through his hands neatly, and his eyes scanned every page. Behind him stood two tall and burly looking men. Harrison always struggled to remember their names, they were only muscle. No brain between the two of them. He sighed.

“Get me the boy.” he said aloud, “The Red Viper.” It was time for Plan B.

A feeling of uneasiness and unrest settled in the already tense atmosphere of the room. There was no telling how the kid would react to being summoned. The last person who had worked with the snake had been betrayed and then severely injured. The thought of that happening to him sent shivers down his spine. Harrison was terrified of the boy. But Carsten Burchkov always said he never failed, so Harrison had to try, the mission he had planned could not fail. The spyder had been compromised years ago, but every attempt to stop her had failed, she was just too good. Time and time again the spider had caused trouble for his country, and it had to stop. The boy was Harrison’s last chance.

The sound outside the door told him of the boy’s arrival. One of the guards shoved the kid in front of the desk rather harshly. Harrison grinned at the boy, happy with his choice. His training showed in his posture, and in the way he stood.

They called him Karl, but that wasn’t his name. He was about 12, and nearly 5,2. The boy had on a grey dry-fit shirt and blue shorts that went to his knees. “Sir?” the boy asked, his voice wary with suspicion. He was always suspicious, that was what made him the best.

“I have a new mission for you Red Viper,” Harrison stated, using his code name. His voice was even and emotionless. “Here. Take a look.”

He passed the manila folder to the boy. Karl flicked it open with his left hand. His eyes looking back and forth, trying to analyze and memorize the information. Harrison’s voice was cold as he explained the gist of the mission. He watched the boy carefully. Being sure not to miss the moment when the muscles in his shoulders and jaw tensed. Harrison almost cackled as the boy's eyes reread the line and he swallowed harshly. Almost laughed as the look of fear flashed through his eyes, but couldn't stop the smirk.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Karl’s hands reached out and took the folder from Schmitt. His blue eyes scanned the page at high speed for all the information possible. Analyzing, searching, checking and rechecking. Looking for anything important.

Schmitt shifted in his chair. “You will travel to America. There was a KGB agent who defected, we have attempted many times to kill her. All have failed. She went quiet in 2007, but these past years she has begun causing trouble for us again. For our safety, and for our country, you will eradicate her.”

Karl’s eyes glanced over the name listed at the bottom, and then- He froze in his tracks- his muscles tensed and his jaw clenched. Terrified, he forced himself to reread the name.  
A metaphorical tornado whirled through Karl’s brain and tore all his protective barriers to pieces. Contact with this woman could only cause trouble for him. She was from the past, simply another Russian ghost story. He tried to convince himself, calm himself down, tell himself it was just another mission, but the damage was done. On the inside, he was panicking, he was struggling to keep his composure, and barely keeping his emotions in check. On the outside, he relaxed, nodded and asked for any other information relevant to the mission.

Promptly, Schmitt responded. “Nothing else. Everything is in the folder. You have three weeks to locate the target and extract any information. One extra week for destruction. Understood?” He leaned forward in his throne-like chair and raised his left eyebrow.

It made sense to Karl as soon as he saw the smirk on Schmitt’s face. The officer knew that it would kill him to hurt the woman in America. He knew she would be his downfall from the moment he read Karl’s profile from the Academy. Carsten had known about his connection from day one, and had never hesitated to use it against him. Karl should have known that he would tell Schmitt. He almost swore, but kept his face blank and pressed his lips together. 

They could try and hurt him, but they had always underestimated his skill in lying.

“Yes,” Karl said without expression. “Hail Hydra.”


	2. Overseas

Karl stepped out of the black car with a blank expression on his face, he was ready. One of the Hydra guards handed him his black briefcase and then quickly drove off.

Part one was complete. He inhaled sharply and squared his shoulders. The mission was underway. Thanking the man who held the door for him, Karl continued on his way.

He held his head high even as the collar of his white shirt dug into his neck. The discomfort, though a little distracting, was something he was used too. The black-tie and navy jacket added to the look, though they would hinder his movement in a fight. Blue mirrored sunglasses covered his now gray eyes.

He entered the airport and headed for the check-in desk. His frequent flyer account had been used many times over the past three years, and this time was no different. Schmitt had told him this morning that he had been booked a round trip from Moscow to JFK.

The bored-looking woman behind the counter turned to face him.“Name?” she asked.

“Gabriel Kozlovsky,” he said, placing his false passport on the desk. He smiled at her, though it was forced, she did not notice.

“Thank you.” the woman sighed “how many pieces of luggage?”

“None.” Karl drawled “Only this” he gestured to his briefcase.

She handed him his boarding pass and pointed him in the direction of security.

“Blagodaryu vas,” he thanked her.

“Pozhaluysta,” the woman responded, sounding exhausted, she gave a small smile. “Have a good trip.”

The security station, though in theory an obstacle considering the number of weapons hidden on his figure alone, was a breeze. Karl’s pistols, knives, and taser went completely undetected thanks to Schmitt’s camouflage fabric. It was called Pauk Karluflyazh, a revolutionary project he had helped develop after landing in jail on a flight to Los Angeles with Grigori when he was 9. It had taken many test trials, but now that it finally worked, it was a blessing for assassins like Karl.

His flight went well enough, considering where he was headed. The food about halfway through was delicious. Beef stroganoff with rice nearly cooked to perfection. For the majority of the flight, Karl read though his mission profile and attempted to wrap the implications of accepting the job around his head. He tried to tell himself that his job was killing people, that his job was to eliminate threats, but he could not convince himself, not this time.

He knew, in the back of his mind that he couldn't bring himself to kill her, and so he needed a plan. If he didn’t complete this mission, Schmitt and his team could find him anywhere and kill him on the spot. And surviving a week would be almost impossible if you were just anybody. Fortunately, Karl wasn't just anybody. He was the Red Viper, and he was ready.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Once he finally arrived in New York, he had a while before Sergei Ivanovich would arrive to drive him to the hotel. He sat down in a Starbucks and pulled out his computer. Karl’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he plotted out his mission.

His face must have been one of deep concentration and slight difficulty because a man wearing a black suit and sporting a buzz cut approached him. “Do you need any help?”

“No thanks” Karl replied, adding in a slight Finnish accent he didn’t have.

“Let me buy you some hot chocolate.” the man’s voice was steady, and the way his right hand rested closer to his waist and the slight defensive stance he took told Karl that he had training.

It dawned on him who this man was once he introduced himself as Phillip Coulson. He was a very high ranking SHIELD agent, and just the opportunity Karl had been looking for. Information on their HQ and protocols was needed and vital if he wanted to survive for more than a month. This “Phillip” was going to give him everything.

When the Sergei finally arrived, Karl had already obtained some information from Phillip, but he was most definitely well trained, and it was difficult, even for the young assassin. He learned about S.H.I.E.L.D’s whereabouts and their proposed course of action as well as the fact that they were sending agents out to find him. The Russian Viper.

Sergei was driving a red Stingray, and he never said a word to Karl through the entire drive. The boy reviewed the mission folder before drifting off to sleep. When he awoke, their car had stopped. Sleepily, he glanced at the tinted windows and glimpsed figures fighting. He assumed that these were the ones whom SHIELD had sent to find him. “Idi k chertu ublyudok” Karl swore, looks like he would have to fight today.

He scrambled out of the car, unconsciously reaching for the pistols on his hips, and after realizing they were not there, quickly analyzed the situation. A guy with two knives and two younger agents engaged with Sergei while Phillip stood in front of the car on his phone.

Grinning savagely, Karl leaped into action. He took out the blond man with a cross punch to the temple before the others even noticed he was there. The dark-haired agent spun on his heel to slam his left fist into Karl’s cheek. Black spots swam before his eyes and he grimaced but continued fighting. He ducked under another punch from the other man and jabbed his fingers into his solar plexus then hammered him in the head hard enough to knock him out.

Karl smirked and turned to Sergei, but before he could even call out to the driver, a footfall and then a thunk as Phillip’s pistol hit him in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blagodaryu vas : Thank you
> 
> Pozhaluysta: You are welcome
> 
> Pauk Karluflyazh : first word is Spider, rest is essentially gibberish
> 
> Idi k chertu ublyudok : fucking bastards


	3. Captured

The atmosphere in the car was tense. As soon as Karl had woken up, both Junior agents had taken to intensely glaring at him. And Phillip’s choice in music made the ride so much worse. Even a high ranking SHIELD agent could love Radiohead.

Karl knew he had to escape, if he wanted inside SHIELD, he had to prove that he wasn't up to something, and was simply another wannabe escapee. Waiting till he was in a cell in the compound would only make it harder. Biting his lip and blocking out the terrible sound of Phillip’s Spotify playlist, he formed a plan.

After slipping the credit card blade from his wallet to his inner jacket pocket. Karl sat up. “I need to use the washroom,” he explained, “Can we stop?”

“Fine.”

The next gas station they came across was one with red and blue paint. Phillip pulled into the parking lot. “Go quickly” he sighed, exasperated.

The dark-haired one accompanied the boy and tugged excessively on Karl’s left arm. “Watch it,” he complained, but the older man only grunted. He rolled his eyes and slowly guided the two of them closer and closer to the candy-filled racks. The other didn't notice anything before they both painfully crashed into one.

“Idiot” the black-haired man growled, glaring at Karl. Completely oblivious to the fact the boy had just swiped his ID badge.

“Sorry.” Karl said, raising his hands in defense, “I wasn't looking Mr…”

“Thomas. Thomas Alverez. ” he supplied “My friend is Liam. You are clumsy.”

The younger boy barked a laugh “Yeah. Clumsy is right.”

Karl smirked, so far so good. When they got back in the car, he slid the badge in with his credit card. Now, to make his escape…

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When they finally stopped, and they reached S.H.I.E.L.D’s HQ, Thomas and Liam led him blindfolded into the building. Once they had passed through a few doors, and Liam had unconsciously loosened his grip, Karl attacked. He dropped, like he’d fainted, then swiped his legs to the left, kicking Thomas’ legs out from underneath him and pulling off the blindfold.

Karl squared up against Liam, the former almost two heads taller and at least 30 pounds heavier, but the boy wasn’t worried. Liam wasn't the threat, he was a new agent, and his fighting skills were less developed. Thomas was the one he needed to worry about. Three quick punches and the yellow-haired man was on the ground.

Karl spun around to face Thomas and ducked under the first punch and lashed out with his foot. His fist connected with Thomas’ face and angered the man.

The elder put all his weight behind a well-aimed punch and struck Karl square in the eye. His eyes watered. “Ouch,” he muttered, dodging another punch. “Screw this”

Pulling up his sleeve, he tapped his watch three times before it activated. In quick succession, three lasers fired and hit Thomas squarely in the chest.

Karl took off down the hallway, not even checking to see if he was down. He sprinted as fast as he could in a furious attempt to find an exit. Leopold and Coulson’s footsteps could be heard over the faint alarm sounding.

He didn't know where he’d come into but he assumed it didn’t matter, logically, there was more than one exits. Karl turned left and swore under his breath as more agents began pursuing him. Just in time, he spotted a door ahead, a door leading outside. “Thank fucking god!” he thought “Freedom.”

Outdoors, he found his way to a vehicle of sorts and frantically began hotwiring the car. “Stay calm.” he thought “Stay calm.”

Buckling up, he breathed a sigh of relief as a grin crossed his features. At the gate, he used Thomas’ ID card to get out and almost laughed out loud when the security guard fell for his petty schoolchild trick.

He turned the car onto the open road and decided that he would need to begin creating his weekly report for Schmidtt. The information he’d received from Phillip this morning would become very useful in the coming weeks. If he did not want to kill someone, a huge amount of valuable information could keep him alive.

An audible click interrupted his thoughts and a circle of metal was pressed to his temple. “Pull over,” the voice came, harsh and unforgiving. “Now!”

He swallowed and began turning the steering wheel, his hands in a white-knuckled grip around the leather. “Yes ma’am,” he said, putting the car in park.

“Get out of the car and put your hands on the door.” This time, it was a man speaking. Karl obliged and got a good look at the two in the backseat.

A man with shaggy blonde hair and a bow slung over his shoulder was motioning for him to hurry up, and was soon locking handcuffs over Karl’s thin wrists. The woman, with her vibrant red hair, was fiddling with some device and talking to someone through her earpiece. Recognition flashed through Karl when she turned to face him. This was the woman he was sent to kill, the defected KGB agent.

“You forgot to check the backseat,” The man said. “Rookie mistake.”

Karl said nothing. Anything he said was probably being recorded, and he didn’t want any more reasons for them to keep him locked up.

“Let’s go” The woman decided, heading for the car. The man shoved Karl in the backseat and climbed in the front.  
“The hell did you do to this car kid?” the man asked, fiddling with the rewiring of the car. “I was never taught this version.”

“Where did you grow up, a circus?” Karl deadpanned, the woman smirked at the man as she shut the door.

“Exactly”

The man put the car in drive and they took off, heading back the way they’d come. Back to the HQ. Karl forced himself to look disappointed, even sighed as he looked out the window. Hopefully they were too busy laughing at how he'd forgotten the backseat. Foolish. He'd known someone was there from the beginning. He wasn't that stupid. 

Karl shot one more glance at the woman before returning to formulating his report. Schmitt wouldn't wait.


End file.
